It reminded him of when he and Nikki were dating. She'd always manage to call at the worst times. It was like a gift of hers, an innate ability to interrupt things. The phone continued to ring in his hand and he looked at the screen, wondering if he should even answer.
It's late, so I doubt she's calling for business reasons, he thought. She's going crazy, I think. I don't know if she fully understands that we aren't together any more. If she wasn't the best in the business, I'd let her go, but I can't. I guess I should answer.
“Screw it,” he whispered, before answering the call. “Hello?”
“Hey, Ollie,” Nikki said, sounding more chipper than the last time they spoke.
“Hi,” he said, sinking into the pillows. “What's up?”
“You doing okay?” she asked.
“I'm fine,” he replied. “Just relaxing. What about you? You don't usually call this late.”
“I was just sitting here thinking about you,” she replied. “Remember when we took that trip to Paris?”
“Yes, of course I remember,” he said, unsure why she was bringing it up. “What made you think about that?”
“I started going through old pictures. I found a few of you and I. They were the ones that were taken in front of the Eiffel Tower,” she said.
Oliver recalled the trip, which they had taken about a year before. He had surprised her with it, back when Nikki was his world and he'd do anything in his power to make her happy. He figured a trip to Paris would do the trick, and it did. For the most part anyway. He spent an insane amount of money on her, bought her expensive dresses and purses, and even paid for a private tour of the Eiffel Tower.
I guess we really had chemistry back then, he thought. Too much chemistry, really.
Nikki and Oliver had the volatile kind of chemistry. The kind that blows up and leaves the earth scorched. It had made for a passionate love life, but nothing comes without a price. And that price was usually paid in emotionally charged arguments. It hadn't been long before they mutually decided to end it and just maintain a business relationship.
“That was a pretty fun trip,” Ollie admitted. He frowned as he remembered the end of the trip. “Everything except the part where you threw a glass at my head on the way home. You remember that? You thought I was going to propose to you and I didn't. I still don't think that justified having a wine glass shattered against my skull.”
“We were in Paris, Oliver,” she said, her voice harsh. “You'd taken me to the City of Love as a surprise. What was I supposed to think?”
“That we'd only been dating for two months,” he said, shaking his head. “It was a little too soon for marriage.”
Looking back, Ollie realized that those two months had been some of the longest months in his entire life. Being with Nikki had been exhausting. It was just too much effort to be her boyfriend. When they weren't talking business or making love, they were fighting. It was so much different than his interactions with Elsie. The complete opposite, really.
At least my conversations with Elsie are relaxing and fun, he thought. I'm actually sad when she leaves to go home. With Nikki, it had always been a relief. I wish I was talking to Elsie right now instead.
“I guess you're right, Ollie,” Nikki said, her tone going sweet and soft. “You're always right. Two months of dating might have been a little soon to expect a proposal. I don't know what I was thinking when I hoped that the man I loved would want to be with me forever.”
He cringed, as Nikki attempted to lay a guilt trip on him. There was nothing he hated more than the passive aggressive guilt that she used to manipulate him. The thing he hated most about it was that it actually sometimes worked. He felt like banging his head against the wall and he might have, if he'd been able to walk that far. For a moment, he considered hanging up on her but knew that it wouldn't do any good. She'd just call back again.
“Nikki, is this why you called? To try to make me feel bad?” Ollie asked. “I don't need this right now. I was just about to watch some TV and try to relax. I had a long day of physical therapy and I'm exhausted. If I can't help you with anything that's business related right now, then I need to go.”
“Oh, we're only doing business now, huh?” she asked, her words filled with sarcasm. “And here I was, thinking we were friends.”
Anger and annoyance bubbled up into Oliver's gut. She was pushing his buttons, just like she used to. She wanted a response from him. She wanted to get him mad. But he didn't give her that. Instead, he bit his tongue.
“What do you want Nikki?” he asked as gently as possible. “I'm not feeling very well right now.”
“I was talking with Coach,” Nikki said, forced to change the
subject when her guilt trip didn't pan out as expected. “He thinks that once you reach the twelve week mark, and once a week physical therapy sessions, then you should definitely come back home. I've already lined up several functions. Your team will be waiting for you.”
Oliver rolled his eyes. Just the thought of attending those functions and getting bombarded with crazed fans made him exhausted. But if she'd already booked them, then there really wasn't too much that he could do about it.
“Anything else, Nikki?” he asked, his eyes half closed.
“Yes, actually,” she said. “I want you to change your physical therapist. I've already done the research and found a great one. His name is James Weaver. According to his website, he was able to get a professional football player back up to playing speed in just nine months. And that player had an injury that was worse than yours. I'm sure that with a little financial incentive, I can get him to go out to Iowa and work with you. You wouldn't even have to move from where you are now.”
Oliver sat up in the bed, leaning against the headboard. “Wait a damn minute, Nikki. You want me to fire my current therapist, who is doing a really great job, on the hope that this James Weaver would want to fly to Iowa for a PT job?”